


Snowdrops

by maderr



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Poly, Threesome, mmf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 06:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15879996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maderr/pseuds/maderr
Summary: When he chances upon a field of snowdrops, Trevor is reminded that in a world free of raging vampires intent on mass slaughter, it would be a time for romance and betrothals, stories and stolen kisses.Instead, Trevor's life is a suicide mission, a dead family, and no place to call home - and a man who will long outlive him and a woman far too good for him...





	Snowdrops

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AliceMontrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceMontrose/gifts).



> This is something I've wanted to write from the moment Alucard asked Sypha if she knew the whole prophecy and she blushed. I will DIE if it turns out she knows the whole time that she someday marries Trevor. In the mean time, I'm having fun in my own way.
> 
> Much love to Alice Montrose for the assistance with Romanian culture. Anything I managed to get right is fully credited to her. Everything wrong is on me.
> 
> Unbeta'ed currently, because honestly I'm crazy busy and it'll take a whole additional month at the rate I'm going and I just want it done. I'll have someone look at it and upload the nicer version when I have time.
> 
> Much love to anyone who reads <3

Trevor shoved Sypha up against the nearby tree and shut her up the only way that ever worked: with his mouth. He got bitten for it, but after that she met his kiss enthusiastically.

He grabbed fistfuls of her ugly, shapeless robes, pulling and shoving until they were bunched up around her hips. Yanking her underclothes off, he threw them aside and finally got his fingers where he most wanted them—thrust inside her slick, wet heat, provoking hungry, bity kisses and demanding noises he greedily swallowed. If not for his clothes, her nails would already be leaving marks in his shoulders. He liked it best when she raked them down his back and left marks he felt for days.

 The only thing better—but better was suddenly there before he could finish the thought, grinding against his back, hard cock evident through their clothes, cool hands deftly undoing his belt and casting it aside before making equally quick work of his girdle and waistcloth. Then those too-clever hands were pushing beneath his tunic to tease and caress; Trevor groaned, pushing into the touches and kissing Sypha harder at the same time.

 Sypha moaned in reply, letting go of him just long enough to undo the straps across his chest and help get his harness and bracers off before Alucard finally stripped off his tunic. "Why do you wear such difficult clothing?"

 "Excuse me? I'm not the one who wears five layers of shapeless sack."

 That got him another delightfully sharp bite to his bottom lip, followed by the soothing lap of her tongue.

 "Why am I always the one getting naked first?" Trevor asked.

 Sypha smirked, but said nothing, only tweaked his bared nipples, already firmed by the brisk late winter-almost spring air.

 Trevor gave a lazy grin. "You can just say it's because I'm the sluttiest of us three; I know you're thinking it."

 She sniffed and tossed her head in that way that always made him think she must have had long hair once. Gods would he kill to see that. Every time she trimmed it, he quietly mourned, but he liked breathing too much to ever dare ask, suggest, hint, or even think too hard that she let it grow.

 Stealing a last kiss, he then pushed away, turned, and shoved Alucard's stupid coat from his shoulders, then pulled his shirt off too, though it fit so closely that it always took a bit of work. "Get rid of your boots, I'm not dealing with those annoying things."

 He was about to work on his own shoes when Alucard jerked him in close and kissed him until Trevor was overheated with lust and a little dizzy from lack of air. Then he got a crude fondling that did nothing to cool him off—right before Alucard knocked him to his knees.

 Trevor rolled his eyes, because Alucard was nothing if not predictable, but at the playful tug to his hair, obediently got Alucard's pants open and pulled out his cock, rubbing his thumb over the wet, leaking tip. Looking up, drunk as ever on Alucard's impossible beauty and the way those gold eyes burned, he sucked the precome from his thumb.

 That got him a growl, and a less playful, more _get to work_ tug. But Trevor lingered until he'd watched Alucard and Sypha kiss for a bit, then finally focused his attention on Alucard's cock. He took it deep with practiced ease, enjoying as always the weight and warmth of a cock in his mouth, the slight stretch and the way it almost but not quite could choke him. He settled his hands on Alucard's hips, briefly disappointed he could only feel fabric and leather, and sucked hard, pulling the cock as deep as he could, tongue working the underside, cheeks hollowing with effort, savoring the heat and musky flavor, the long fingers that tightened in his hair, commanding and praising all at once.

 Alucard thrust lazily into his mouth, content to enjoy at his leisure as he continued to kiss and tease Sypha, all sorts of lovely noises raining down on Trevor's head.

 Eventually, though, when Trevor's jaw ached and his chin and throat were wet with spit and precome, and his eyes were watered from exertion, Alucard took pity. Grabbing the back of Trevor's head, he thrust deeply a few last times and spilled down his throat, though the bastard pulled out at the last moment so some of it landed on his face.

 "Was that necessary?" Trevor demanded, but forgot about his complaints as he was sandwiched between them and subjected to the delicious torment of four hands and two mouths. It was his absolute favorite place to be, though he'd never give them the satisfaction of admitting it.

 Sypha was in front of him, her perfect breasts pressed against his chest, her elegant fingers in his hair as she licked Alucard's come from his face and shared the flavor with him, her kisses wet and filthy and utterly delightful.

 Behind him, Alucard stroked along his chest and occasionally down to his cock. Just as Trevor was about to scream with frustration, Alucard opened his pants and tugged fabric out of the way. From there, it was easy as breathing to slide into Sypha, hiking her legs up around him as he pushed her to the ground and fucked her like there was nothing else he'd rather do. It was certainly in the top three.

 Sypha's eyes were closed, her head thrown back as she took everything he could give her. Trevor savored the rare opportunity to watch her face unguarded—where they weren't arguing, or battling, or recovering from battle. There was nothing but pleasure filling her face, the only expressions she should ever have to wear. He'd prefer to see her eyes, but he'd take what he could get.

 The same way he'd take whatever Alucard offered up on those rare occasions he broke from his solemn, reserved demeanor. Strange that Alucard was so cool, and Sypha so fiery, yet they shared a way of never revealing much of anything except in moments like this.

 Maybe one day that would change, but he wasn't holding his breath. He'd stopped hoping for than what came the day the church had taken everything from him, and no one had given him anything save more pain or whatever money could buy.

 The encroaching gloomy thoughts thankfully could not take further hold, between the incomparable pleasure of fucking Sypha and the unmatched delight of Alucard's long fingers pushing inside him, twisting and teasing, his mouth sucking up a mark on the back of Trevor's neck, where he'd be able to feel it for days.

 Just like the nails finally raking his back, leaving that sting he loved so much. He fucked into her harder and deeper and ever, extracting a groan that sent delighted shivers through him. She dug her nails into the meat of his shoulders as she came with one of her soft, moaning cries.

 Alucard pulled him away before he could come, shoved him to the ground, and jerked him off quick and messy, the fingers of his other hand sliding right back in Trevor's hole and stroking that spot. Trevor came with a rough cry that was partly muffled by Sypha's mouth. Her kiss was chased by Alucard's, and fuck nothing tasted better than the way their mouths were flavored with each other.

 When he could breathe again several minutes later, Trevor stole brief kisses and then climbed to his feet. He stretched with a groan, working out the kinks that came with recklessly fucking on a forest floor, then set about gathering his discarded clothes, which were almost more dirt than cloth at this point. And there was possibly a small stain left by him or Alucard on his waistcloth, but it was too cold to wash his clothes in the creek. The problem would keep until they reached a village or town where he could pay for laundry to be someone else's problem.

 Pulling on his tunic, he smoothed it down and brushed away bits of grass and dirt, then retrieved his harness and pulled it back on, checking the knives were still secured.

 Then he shook out his poor waistcloth and equally maltreated girdle, deftly securing them and tugging until they settled into place. Finally he secured his bracers and buckled on his belt, never really feeling dressed unless he had the weight of sword and whip at his hips.

 Nearby, Alucard and Sypha were also dressed again, both as pristine as ever. Was Trevor the only one who came away from their trysts looking rumbled? Figured. As one, the three of them set to finishing the set up of camp and preparing dinner.

 They bedded down as dark fell, save for Alucard, who took the night watch and slept through the morning. Trevor relaxed to the familiar crackle of the fire and Sypha's soft snores, safe beneath the quiet threat that Alucard posed to would-be assailants.

 He drifted to sleep thinking helplessly, hopelessly, of what it might be like to sleep together in the big bed in the master suite of a home that no longer existed.

 *~*~*

 Trevor woke to Alucard's gentle shaking, and was more than happy to enjoy a quick and dirty fuck before sending Alucard off to sleep. Nearby, Sypha still slept. He let he be, and headed out to take a piss and see about something fresh for breakfast. As hard as they pushed, and all the fights they faced, bread and cheese just wasn't enough.

 All thoughts fled, even those of food, as he came across a small clearing, only a few paces in size, filled with snowdrops. His stomach clenched, and his chest gave a painful lurch. He'd known, superficially, that it was that time of year.

 But between fighting, recovering, traveling, fighting… hard to really focus. In the end, he hadn't _really_ known at all.

 Dragobete. He'd never participated in the holiday, always busy training, then hunting, and then everyone had become increasingly afraid of his family thanks to the church.

 But he remembered his sisters joining the fun, his cousins, the few family friends they'd had at first: hunting for snowdrops, picking bluebells and muscats, collecting snow or dew from strawberries to use in their magic spells the rest of the year.

 His sisters had loved best tromping off to a field with their friends, and always having the best stories to tell. They'd had people who'd become their blood brothers and sisters—right up until the church convinced them it was better to be strangers. Trevor had been envious for years that he never got to do such things. Perhaps if things had not gone so wrong…

 But no. Even if Dracula wasn't a problem, or he somehow survived killing the bastard and his demon army, and life in Wallachia went back to some form of normal… he was too old for such fanciful things. He wasn't allowed anywhere near a church, unless crazy bishops needed a fresh audience for their ranting and raving.

 And even if those two things weren't true, what woman in her right mind would ever want to marry him? The question tormented him as much as his memories. The church hadn't just killed all current Belmonts, minus him—they'd destroyed all hope of future ones.

 They'd burned his home. Taken the family fortune. Destroyed his name. Rebuilding all of that was the work of a lifetime, nevermind also somehow creating a future. Who wanted to take on such a thankless life with him? Certainly no one with intelligence, and he'd yet to meet a woman who lacked intelligence. Most of them lacked common sense, _Sypha_ , but not intelligence.

 Trevor plucked a few of the snowdrops, wrapped them carefully in the only clean handkerchief he had left, and tucked them into the pouch at the small of his back.

 Standing, he finally got back to the matter of breakfast.

 He had luck a short time later with a surprisingly fat hare, and was smiling as he carried it back to camp.

 Sypha was still asleep, which he'd never seen happen. What a shock that she'd been far more exhausted than she'd wanted to admit. Trevor left her to it, preparing the hare to the sound of her snoring. Nearby, Alucard was so still he could almost be dead.

 He stole glances at them both as he worked. Sypha's face was softer in sleep, and she smiled the barest bit, like whatever she dreamed of made her happy. Alucard's edges were as sharp as ever, but he also looked peaceful.

 When the hare was roasting, and he'd cleaned up, he pulled the snowdrops from his pouch and set all but one of them where she'd see them when she woke. The single remaining he tucked away again, though what he'd do with a single stupid flower, he had no idea.

 He was just slicing up the hare when he heard her stir. The urge to look up and watch, maybe catch her reaction, was great, but Trevor kept his eyes on his work.

 "What are these?" Sypha asked, her voice husky with sleep.

 Trevor's heart, the stupid, traitorous bastard, started pounding furiously. "Surely you know what a snowdrop is."

 She scowled at him in that way that made him want to bit and suck at her pink lips. "You know what I mean."

 Trevor bit back a smile, and smirked instead. "I thought you'd like them for a love spell. Isn't that what girls do this time of year? Gather snow and flowers for their magic?"

 Sypha crossed her arms over her chest. "You think I need love spells? You weren't complaining about my natural charms last night. Or any other time."

 Scoffing, Trevor replied, "My sisters used to cast 'spells' that would drive the boys away so they'd be left in peace. My father was not amused, but my mother thought it was hilarious." He swallowed, throat suddenly raw. "It's how my parents got engaged—at Dragobete, I mean."

 A look he didn't remotely understand flickered across her face, but she didn't look particularly pleased by anything he'd said. But what had he expected? Nothing. He'd learned the hard way not to expect more than that. So it was fine.

 "So what, this is your idea of a proposal?"

 Trevor's gut twisted with disappoint and mortification. No, that hadn't been his intent at all. He'd never dare presume upon a woman like Sypha that way. But he'd hoped that maybe… maybe for a moment, she'd soften. Remember them fondly like he did. _Something._

 He was a fool. His heart lurched to a stop, then started pounding again, this time from an overwhelming desire to fight or flee. "Don't worry, I'm not that stupid. I just—"

 Sypha abruptly stood, strode up to the campfire, and threw the snowdrops into the flames. "Good! Then I won't need magic to drive you away!" She stormed off into the woods.

 After watching everything he loved go up in literal flames, Trevor hadn't thought his heart capable of further breaking. What was there to break it? What was there left to _break_ , for that matter.

 But despite the blood, violence, and dubious chances for survival that filled their waking hours, he'd started to heal. He'd never be the person he was before the church had razed his life, but he was something again.

 Which unfortunately meant his heart was more than capable of cracking right down the middle as he watched the snowdrops burn to nothing.

 *~*~*

 Three days later, everything was still awkward. If they weren't fighting, or setting up camp necessitated it, he and Sypha weren't talking—which meant nobody was talking, since Alucard wasn't terribly chatty unless he wanted to make everyone sad or mock them, neither of which he could do when they were trying to out-silence each other.

 After reducing an entire damned flock of hungry imps to cinders and carrion, they decided to make camp, as dark was rapidly approaching and the heavy clouds in the distance promised a final, nasty bought of snow before winter gave up for good.

 Trevor got a fire going, sighing as Sypha slipped into the woods to piss or curse him or whatever it was she did when she vanished for half an hour at a time.

 "So what did you say or do to anger her this much?" Alucard asked as he sat down across from Trevor, placing his sword at his side. He added sticks to the fire Trevor had already forgotten about. "I've been trying to guess, but the list is so long, I need more information to narrow it down. Seems easier to just ask."

 Scowling at the growing flames, Trevor replied, "Shut up." After a beat, he added, "I gave her some snowdrops."

 "I realize it's around the time of Dragobete, but surely even you have better timing than 'on the road to kill Dracula'."

 "I'm not the fool you all seem to take me for," Trevor bit out. "I just thought she'd like them. I had no intention of giving chase or sending a matchmaker or anything else. She looked terrified at the very idea. I assured her I wasn't that stupid, and she hasn't spoken to me since."

 Alucard's brows rose. "Are you sure that's what you said? Because your mouth has two modes: pissing people off, and _really_ pissing people off." At Trevor's look, his lips twitched ever so slightly. "Fine, you have manners on rare occasion. But rarely around us. Not that we expect them. I'd be concerned if you started being polite to me."

 Trevor said nothing, too busy recalling burning snowdrops. A woman who fucked with abandon, and fought at their sides like they'd trained together all their lives, but positively dreaded the idea of having anything further to do with him.

 "What _exactly_ did you—"

 A bellow of rage from the woods cut Alucard off, followed by a burst of light that could only be Sypha's magic.

 Trevor was across the camp and into the woods before his brain wholly caught up. "Sypha!"

 All he found where the magic had come from was burned and broken trees, scorched earth, and a troubling lack of angry Speaker.

 There was also a familiar stench: old blood, rotted corpses, and dirty, wet dog. "A căpcăun took her."

 "How?" Alucard asked. "Those things are child's play for someone of Sypha's acumen."

 "Must have taken her by surprise." But Trevor was equally troubled. One thing to be taken by surprise by a cyclops—but a căpcăun? Those were some of the first things he'd been sent to kill on his own. Belmonts considered them little better than training monsters.

 Alucard's frown deepened. "I don't hear it moving, so it can't have gone far."

 "Follow the stench." Trevor took the lead, following a trail that was little more than the odd broken branch or smudge of footprint.

 "Here," Alucard said, at the same moment Trevor said, "Got him."

 Amidst a cropping of rocks was a small hollow that probably spread out into an enormous cave. If it was the like the dozens he'd encountered before, it would be littered with bones, scraps and other rancid delights.

 "You can go first now," Trevor said, and grinned fleetingly as Alucard rolled his eyes.

 Alucard crouched, grabbed the lip of the cave entrance, and swung down into it. Trevor followed, drawing his sword as he hit the ground while Alucard improvised and lit a torch.

 As expected, they crunched over old, broken bones and things far squishier, none of which Trevor looked too closely at.

 The cave they were in wasn't terribly big, though it certainly wasn't small, but there was a narrow passage at the back, from which came the smell of rotted flesh and burned meat. Trevor's heart unknotted slightly at the slight hint of proof that she was still alive.

 He went first this time, moving cautiously through the narrow passage, knives drawn and his sword sheathed. There was nothing he hated more than a place he couldn't use his whip; he vastly preferred distance when fighting.

 Just as he was about to scream, he stepped out of the passage—and into a cavern that was even worse than the first one. In the middle, Sypha stood over what was left of the căpcăun. There was very little left of its dog-like head, all three of it's arms had burned down to stumps, and the thoroughly-roasted torso was steaming.

 "I think I'll pass on dinner," Trevor said.

 Sypha made a derisive noise. "Let's get out of here."

 "What are we doing here to begin with? How did _you_ get kidnapped by a căpcăun?"

 Alucard grimaced. "Yes, save the kidnapping for your wedding day, please."

 "I don't want to talk about it." Sypha shoved past Trevor, stole the torch from Alucard and elbowed him out of the way, and stormed off back through the cave.

 Trevor sighed and trudged after her, leaving Alucard to cover the rear.

 Back at camp, their attempted fire had gone, which was probably for the best. Sypha got it going again by throwing the torch on it, and Trevor set to getting dinner ready, pulling out what was left of a pheasant he'd caught earlier that day.

 The hated silence continued on through the meal and cleaning up. With dark falling, Trevor would normally be eager to fall asleep and find some peace for a few hours, but he was stretched so taut he could scream.

 Worse, it wasn't hard to tell that Sypha had been crying. That's probably how the căpcăun had gotten her; she'd been too distracted by her own tears to notice it sneaking up on her. But he wasn't stupid enough to ask her why. If he tried that, he'd just get ignored.

 He tried a different tactic instead. "How long are you going to stay mad at me because of some stupid flowers?"

 "If you think this is about flowers, then you're even stupider than I thought, Belmont."

 Oh, marvelous. He was 'Belmont' again.

 Alucard chuckled as he finished draining a hare he'd caught of its blood. "I must say, I did not think being the Sleeping Soldier would be so entertaining. Living in the midst of a prophecy is far more fun than reading about it later, when all the charming details are lost."

 "Be quiet," Sypha hissed.

 Trevor scowled as he threw the refuse from his dinner into the fire. He hated the way they both knew the whole prophecy, but could never be bothered to share it with him. You'd think after a few months of fighting and fucking with a man, they could learn to trust him completely. But no.

 Ignoring Sypha, Alucard gave one his lazy, smirking 'son of Dracula' smiles and said, "When people ask me three hundred years from now if I knew the great Trevor Belmont and his wife, Lady—"

 "Stop it," Trevor snarled, surging to his feet. "I'll take a lot of mockery from the two of you, but that's a step too far."

 Alucard stared at him in actual, open surprise. "Mockery? That's what the prophesy says. That a hunter and a scholar helped the Sleeping Soldier save Wallachia, and then went on to marry and have children, who continued their parents' legacy of fighting vampires."

 "Well you've got the wrong hunter and scholar," Trevor bit out. "She made it perfectly clear I was a fate worse than death."

 Sypha rose and glared at him so fiercely he was lucky she couldn't cast magic with just a look. "I said no such thing! You're the one who said you'd never be stupid enough to propose."

 Alucard sighed. "Children."

 "Oh, shut up, Jesus," Trevor retorted. "You can act like a lofty vampire all you like, but you're the same age as us. You've got to survive a couple of centuries before you can play at wise, old soul." The thought hurt, as it always did when he let it creep in: that they would grow old and die, and Alucard would carry on without them. For decades, centuries…

 The words earned him one of Alucard's rare, soft, bittersweet smiles though.

 "And as for _you_ ," Trevor snapped, rounding back on Sypha. "That's _not_ what I said."

 Sypha crossed her arms. "Oh, really? I remember your words exactly: 'Don't worry, I'm not that stupid'. That is what you said."

 "Oh, for god's sake." Trevor dragged his hands down his face. "I _meant_ that you don't have to worry, because I'm not stupid enough to bother you with such a thing! What else could I have possibly meant?"

 Whatever Sypha's reply, it was lost as Alucard laughed so loudly that nearby birds startled from their trees. "As I was trying to say earlier, when someone tries to ask me what it was like to know the great Trevor Belmont and his wife, Lady Sypha, I cannot wait to ruin all their precious, perfect images with a recounting of this utter debacle. It might almost be worth living so long to enjoy that moment."

 Sypha glared at him, and though Trevor wanted to do the same, he couldn't take his eyes from her flushed cheeks.

 He turned the whole stupid incident from a few days ago over in his mind, seeing it in a whole new light, instead of through the lens of his private convictions that his life was a big pile of cow shit. "Wait a minute—did you _want_ me to be proposing?"

 "What?" Sypha's head snapped around, whole face going delightfully pink. "Don't be—"

 "Ridiculous? Stupid?" Trevor asked, smiling now as he slowly stepped around the fire and toward her.

 Sypha narrowed her eyes. "You are both those things."

 "I don't want to hear that from the woman who complained about having to reassure people she was alive instead of continuing her search for Jesus."

 "I was right about Alucard." She looked toward him for help, but Alucard only continued smirking at them.

 "Not the point." But he jerked his head at Alucard to join them, because they were three, not two. Though Alucard looked puzzled, he obeyed, and soon all three of them were standing in a loose circle together.

 Trevor pulled out the snowdrop he'd held onto, despite a hundred urges to throw it out, and presented it. "Don't throw this one in the fire."

 Taking it, Sypha said, "I'm not going to run so you can chase me."

 Alucard laughed. "What's the point? We already know you'll kiss us."

 Sypha rolled her eyes. "I am fairly certain I cannot have two husbands."

 "According to who? The church that excommunicated me? That has a strict policy against vampires?" Trevor asked. "And don't start in on the stupid prophecy. No wonder you've been so cagey with it."

 Sypha's expression then was a wealth of opinions, most of them unflattering. "I was hoping a handsomer, less rude Belmont might come along."

 "Sorry, I'm all you get. Believe it or not, I _was_ the handsomest and politest Belmont."

 Sypha scoffed at that, but a smile tricked onto her mouth. And she was holding the snowdrop like it was something precious. "Very well. But I'm not getting married until this is over. Bad luck, I feel, to marry in the midst of a war with Dracula." She gave a little laugh. "Grandfather will be quite pleased to hear of this."

 "He won't mind you'll no longer be a Speaker?" Trevor asked.

 "Of course not. We never know what paths our lives will take, and it's not as though I'll never speak to them again."

 Alucard delicately plucked the snowdrop from her fingers and returned it to the kerchief and pouch from which Trevor had pulled it. "Just so. He would only want for you to be happy, as my mother wanted for me."

 Trevor didn't know what to say to that, given all that weighed Alucard down, this war personal for him in a way it was to no one else on earth. Words had been getting him trouble lately anyway.

 Instead, Trevor kissed him. Alucard met it full measure, enfolding him close, that long lean body pressed fully against his much broader one, their difference in height only adding to the perpetually-strange sensation of feeling safe in a vampire's arms.

 Safe, and strangely powerful, because their ridiculous Messiah did nothing in half measures. He wanted them, and loved them, wholly and completely. They were as important to him as Lisa had been to Dracula, but Trevor did not have to worry his death would spell the possible end of humanity.

 Pulling away, nipping playfully at his lips, Alucard then set about the onerous task of removing Trevor's many layers. Nearby, Sypha as usual was ahead of them both and delightfully naked, her pale skin bathed in firelight and fading sun.

 They descended upon her, tasting every inch of her skin, sucking and stroking her nipples to hard points, leaving marks only they would ever see, each pushing a finger inside her to tease and stroke, drawing out those little moans and hitched breaths Trevor loved so much, until she was clinging to them and trembling on the verge of climax.

 After kissing each of them, coming between them with a cry Trevor happily swallowed, she panted out, "I want to watch you fuck."

 "Does milady have a particular preference?" Alucard drawled.

 She shook her head, head still resting against Trevor's shoulders as she slowly came down, eyes closed. Trevor pressed a butterfly kiss to the soft skin beneath her ear, enjoying the scent of her: forest and sweat, the sharp tang of magic and the smell of recent sex.

 Then he was being dragged away by Alucard, pulled against that long body again, their cocks rubbing in marvelous torment. He got a toothy kiss, and then Alucard murmured, "Been awhile since you fucked me, hunter."

 "Well that's a problem that should definitely be rectified."

 Alucard rolled his eyes, but his mouth twitched, and those gold eyes glowed with amusement.

 Trevor swept his feet out from under him, but as per usual Alucard recovered in the blink of an eye and managed to land elegantly on his knees, that ridiculous hair spilling about everywhere because heaven forbid Alucard tie it back in some way.

Kneeling in front of him, Trevor feasted on his mouth for several more minutes, tangling his fingers in Alucard's hair, admiring the softness of it, the way it smelled faintly of roses no matter what they'd been through.

 Eventually, however, a sharp pinch to his ass got him back on track, and he moved behind Alucard and deftly caught the lube Sypha tossed him. "Ready, Jesus?"

 "Shut up."

 Snickering, Trevor slicked his fingers and worked one carefully inside. But Alucard was relaxed and eager beneath him, and it didn't take long before Trevor was fucking him with three fingers, eyes locked on Sypha all the while, enjoying the way she fucked herself on her own fingers as she watched them.

 "Get on with it," Alucard said. "I swear, you spend more time talking than—"

 Trevor slid inside him, delighting in the groan that overtook Alucard's complaints. It really had been awhile, if he'd forgotten just how tight and hot Alucard felt, the utter delight of fucking him until Alucard's aloof manner completely fell away and all that remained was the wild beauty and open, hungry need came out. If Alucard was anything like his mother, and Trevor's impression was that he was very much like her, then it wasn't hard to understand why Dracula had reacted to her murder with world annihilation.

 He gripped Alucard's hips tightly and fucked as hard as he possibly could, driving out gasps and moans, admiring the way that beautiful back flexed and moved, gleaming with sweat, his hair like liquid gold in the firelight.

 Sypha moved closer, positioning herself so that Alucard could get his mouth on her, eating her out like a banquet fit for kings. All the while she kept her eyes on them, drinking in the sight of Trevor fucking Alucard.

 It was entirely too much for Trevor, as much as he could have gladly remained right there, just him, his lovers—betrotheds—alone in the world. A perfect moment he wished could last forever.

 But memories would have to do.

 Trevor buried himself deep one last time and came, reaching around and jerking Alucard off so he followed only moments later. Alucard pulled away to give a shout, even as Sypha trembled and moaned her own release.

 When they could all move again, they gathered their bedrolls and arranged everything into one big pile—normally too dangerous, should they be attacked in the night, but just this once none of them could be bothered to care.

 As usual, Trevor somehow wound up in the middle, draped in arms and legs, with mouths in easy reach for lazy kisses. "There'd better not be any kidnapping at the wedding, even mock."

 "Go to sleep," Sypha said, not bothering to open her eyes.

 Alucard snickered and replied quietly so as not to disturb her. "I wonder what sort of ransom you'll be made to pay."

 " _We'll_ be made to pay," Trevor replied, and then he too was drifting off, a smile on his face.


End file.
